


Touch

by ThatDamnKennedyKid



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Female Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDamnKennedyKid/pseuds/ThatDamnKennedyKid
Summary: There's a lot of terrible things that have happened to Wade. Holding his dying best friend and brand new girlfriend - his beautiful baby girl - in his arms as she goes is definitely up there.





	Touch

Vanessa had lost her soulmate when they were kids - killed in a drive-by shooting. Wade had given up on the idea he was worthy of one. He'd let Vanessa in, and he had loved her. 

It had been beautiful and short-lived. He still loves her, if he's honest. 

But out of those ashes, his best friend had emerged. Peter, fresh to the hero scene and hardly legal to vote, had swung into his life metaphorical guns blazing. He'd mostly stayed out of her way until she was twenty-one, when he found her with broken ribs for the first time. 

They stayed friends, turned into best friends in the five years that followed. And three weeks ago, she'd said yes to dating him. 

Now, she's bleeding out in his arms with a hunk of rebar pierced through her lower left lung. Her suit is torn in multiple places, the cuts and ripped skin sluggishly bleeding. The rebar is stopping her from bleeding all over the place, but he knows that it's pooling in her lungs. Another certain death, considering the cage they're in, but slower and infinitely more painful for her. 

"Wade." She chokes. Her pretty brown eyes are glassy. "Please."

He knows what she's asking. She doesn't have the coordination, but he can do it. He should do it. She's not a going to live. 

"Peter . . . " His hands, still gloved, flutter over her body, but don't touch. His mask, along with hers, was pulled off when they were tossed in here. 

"Please. I don't want to die slow." She manages, the spandex of her fingertips far from comforting. They hadn't even held hands or kissed yet - a job had pulled him away. Now they weren't going to. He would never get another chance, and he'd gone and wasted it. The rebar should have been in him, not in her. 

But he can see it clearly, the way it tore open her suit and pierced through that pretty, pretty skin. 

"Wade." She's begun to cough. 

"I'm right here, baby girl." He soothes, hand grabbing the rebar, the other twining their fingers. "I'll be right there the whole way down."

He pulls it out and she's breathless with pain before the blood starts to swell and overflow. He can't bring himself to do her the ultimate mercy and snap her neck or stab her again in the heart. He can't be her killer, even only in his own mind. 

Her breath shudders and she can't speak anymore. She's shaking, then it slows. 

He watches, stricken, as she dies. 

With fantastic effort, he pulls off his glove. He wants to feel her, just once, before she cools. He wants to know what her skin would have felt like under his hands as he cupped her face to kiss her. 

He's trembling as he traces her lips and can't look anymore. He lays down next to her, twirling the rebar in his hand. 

"I'll follow you down, if only for now."

Then he stabs himself in the chest. 

* * *

He wakes up feeling unidentifiably different. Peter's kneeling over top of him, her face streaked with dirt and soot, her Spidey-suit in tatters on her lithe frame. She's covered in old blood. 

"What kind of night did you have on patrol?"

"Wade, oh thank God." She hauls him with desperate strength into her arms, crushing him to her chest. "This is so fucked up."

"Hey! You're not allowed to swear!"

"Wade, I though the change killed you."

"What do you mean, sweetcheeks?"

"The- Wade, were you not alive for the formalization of our soulbond?"

"Uhhh . . . We're soulmates?"

"Yes!"

"Oh." He reevaluates himself. "Maybe that's why I feel different."

She shakes her head with a kind of fondness he doesn't normal manage out of her. 

"I guess I gave you my healing factor, then. Otherwise that was a really intense nightmare I just had."

She presses his hand to the pristine skin rebar had made home in less than an hour ago. "Yeah."

"Oh! What did you give me? Your pretty eyes? Luscious locks?"

She shakes her head, pressing his hand to her face. 

He does a double take. 

"Uhh . . . That's not normal."

She kisses his palm - his callused, unscarred palm of vaguely pinkish Canadian flesh. 

He quickly sits up and finds that between all the tears in his suit, he's normal. Unmottled skin, a few of his old scars but just - normal, human skin. 

"My face. Oh God, my face."

She reaches out, running her fingers along his eyebrows - eyebrows! - and along a stubble-rough cheek. He's the same person he went into that fucking place as. She's restored him. 

"Of course someone so fucking perfect would be my soulmate."

She blinks. "I was about to say the same thing."

"We need to get out of here. Then I need a mirror. Then, I'm going to spend hours making sure you're still alive and in one piece. In that order."

"I agree." She kisses his hand one more time before she stands and goes over to the rusting bars, planting her feet and starting the not-inconsiderable task of pulling them apart. 

* * *

"Does your family have a history of cancer, Mr. Wilson?"

He swallows thickly. "I don't know."

The doctor nods. "I was just curious what pushed you to do this testing. You needn't worry - you're a perfectly healthy thirty year old. I suggest regular screenings if you're nervous, but otherwise, I don't need to see you again."

He's shaking, hard, the entire way home. When he closes the door to his apartment, Peter's waiting with coffee and cookies. She'd just got back from one of Stark's debriefings on their capture and a series of tests to see how much of his healing she actually got. 

"So?" She says, stepping into his space and resting a hand on his chest. 

"I'm good. No sign of it." He swallows. "And I look thirty."

She breaks into a blinding smile and he can't help but tug her close, trying and failing to keep back his tears. 

"I love you, Wade." She says, kissing his cheek and petting down his short-cropped hair. 

"I love you too." He chokes out, too overcome. 

She holds him with just an edge of her super strength and he melts into her. 

"What about you?" He rasps. 

"Tony and Bruce said it looks like a permanent addition. Not as fast as yours, but just as strong." She pulls back to meet his gaze. "I'm here forever."

"God, this doesn't feel real."

"I'm going to be honest, I didn't think you looked this good before."

He raises an eyebrow - something he can do now. 

"Well, like, I knew you looked good just from your bone structure, but not Ryan Reynolds good."

"I chose to take that as a compliment."

"It is." She defends. "Do I get brownie points for liking your personality before your looks?"

"Baby girl, you can have whatever you want."

"Good." She nods. "I was looking forward to re-learning your body."

His knees so weak, but he follows her for cookies. 

Soulmates are awesome. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note, just in case it's not super clear what's up:
> 
> Soulmates transfer one aspect of their physicality to their soulmate. In this case, Peter gives Wade the fact she has no cancer. Wade returns with his healing factor. They get to keep this new aspect permanently. 
> 
> Also, Wade is 37 while Peter is 26.


End file.
